


Loyalty Card

by queuebird



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Getting Together, Loyalty, M/M, Sandwiches, Secret Saito Gift Exchange 2020, lemonade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queuebird/pseuds/queuebird
Summary: “It’s a loyalty card,” the cashier says instead, sounding bored. “Come back five more times, get a free cookie.”“Come back?” Eames considers this. The only reason he stopped by Cafe Comienzo in the first place is because he tried a new route to his regular lunch spot, got horribly lost, and gave up.Eames tilts his head at the very attractive cashier. “Hmmm,” he says. “Thank you--” his eyes flick down to the nametag “--Arthur.” Eames favors him with a bright smile.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 76
Collections: Secret Saito 2020





	Loyalty Card

**Author's Note:**

  * For [little_specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_specificity/gifts).



> Many thanks to [wali21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wali21) and [whirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whirling) for bouncing ideas with me, and to [storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things) for the beta!! Thanks to Secret Saito mods for running this event! And last but not least, thank you [little_specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_specificity) for the prompt ("loyalty") - I hope you like the fic!

The cashier serving him is very attractive.

“You’re very attractive,” Eames doesn’t say.

“What’s this?” he asks instead.

“I think you’re very attractive as well. Let’s run away and get married,” the cashier doesn’t say.

“It’s a loyalty card,” the cashier says instead, sounding bored. “Come back five more times, get a free cookie.”

“Come back?” Eames considers this. The only reason he stopped by Cafe Comienzo in the first place is because he tried a new route to his regular lunch spot, got horribly lost, and gave up.

Eames tilts his head at the very attractive cashier. “Hmmm,” he says. “Thank you--” his eyes flick down to the nametag “--Arthur.” Eames favors him with a bright smile.

Arthur nods. “Name?” he asks.

Eames feels his smile go a little smug, and Arthur goes, “...for the order.”

“Of course,” Eames says. He’s gracious like that. “Eames--that’s E-A-M-E-S, like the furniture.”

“Great.” Arthur scribbles it on the receipt and gestures to the bit of counter around the corner. “You’ll be called when your order’s ready.”

Eames goes over to wait for his overpriced tuna melt and blood orange lemonade, examining the bright green loyalty card and its little cookie stamp curiously.

...

On Tuesday, Eames remembers the cafe from last week and tries to find it by getting himself lost again. Unfortunately, he gets lost a different way or something, ending up at a tiny sushi place squished between a shoe warehouse and a gym. It’s delightful, but sadly lacking in attractive cashiers named Arthur.

Never mind, Eames thinks as he chews on a delicious California roll. Maybe tomorrow.

...

Luckily for him, this time Eames only has to wander around and squint at street signs for a little while before the large green letters of Cafe Comienzo pop into view ahead of him.

And when he pulls open the door, he’s doubly pleased to see Arthur behind the counter again. He’s chatting with the cashier next to him, and, as Eames watches, his eyes squinch up in a smile and he laughs.

Eames feels something stutter in his chest. Odd.

“Hello,” Eames says once he gets to the front of the line. “I’m back.”

Arthur raises his eyebrows in a way that simultaneously portrays zero recognition and complete lack of care about it. It’s incredibly erotic.

“What do you want,” Arthur says.

“You,” Eames does not say, before he does not lean over the counter, fist Arthur’s shirt, and kiss him soundly on the lips.

“The tuna melt and blood orange lemonade, again. Please,” he says. “And a stamp for my card.”

Arthur nods and jabs at the cash register like it wronged him. Eames is delighted by it.

...

On Thursday, Arthur is wiping down a table in the corner.

Eames slides into the seat next to him with his sandwich, slurping his lemonade.

“Hey,” he goes. “Arthur, right?”

Arthur glances over. “Yeah,” he says. There’s a noticeable pause, and then Arthur says, obviously reluctant, “Do you need help with anything?”

“Er.” Eames hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “Ah.” He fumbles his wallet open. “My loyalty card. I didn’t get my third stamp.”

“Sure.” Arthur accepts the card from Eames. Their hands don’t touch. He marks it with the stamp he retrieves from the pocket of his apron. “Welcome back, Mr. Eames.”

Eames doesn’t expect the little jolt in his chest at the sound of his name falling from Arthur’s lips.

“My pleasure,” Eames replies.

...

“Really into that sandwich, huh?” Arthur comments, ringing up Eames’s order the next day. There’s a stray curl that he didn’t quite manage to slick down, twisting out from the back of his head. Eames is entranced by it.

Eames shrugs. “I’m just angling for the free cookie.” 

Arthur stamps Eames’s card and gives it back to him. (Their hands don’t touch.) “At this rate, you’ll get it by next week.”

“Brilliant.” Eames grins.

Arthur does a precious little eye-roll and waves Eames off.

...

Eames is slightly worried that Arthur will forget him over their two days apart, but lo and behold, when he enters the cafe on Monday, Arthur makes a face at him.

Eames never thought he would be so excited by a look of disgust in his life.

“You again?” Arthur says, even as he puts in Eames’s tuna melt and lemonade. Today, his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows.

“Unfortunately,” Eames replies as he sidles up to the counter, trying not to stare at Arthur’s forearms. “Back to corrupt your restaurant with my presence.” 

“Hey, it’s not _my_ restaurant, I just work here. Take it up with Saito.”

Eames places his elbows on the counter and smiles. “I think I’d prefer to talk to you.”

Arthur scoffs. “Give me your damn loyalty card and get out of here.”

...

Eames is already anticipating Arthur’s perfect expression of disdain and their mini-conversation as he approaches Cafe Comienzo for lunch on Tuesday.

But when he peeks in, he doesn’t see Arthur.

He frowns. 

He goes up to order from someone who isn’t Arthur. The person asks if he has a loyalty card, but he shakes his head--it feels like betrayal to get stamped by someone else.

Once he gets his food, he waits around (maybe he’s in the bathroom? or on break?) until he has barely enough time to get back to work, but Arthur never shows, and Eames is snappy the rest of the day.

...He’s starting to think this thing is serious.

...

The next day, Arthur still isn’t there. 

Eames approaches one of the other people behind the counter.

“Excuse me,” he says. “Do you know where Arthur is? He usually works right around now.”

“Oh, it’s you,” the cashier says.

“...Yes?” Eames does sort of recognize the cashier, though he honestly only ever pays attention to Arthur when he’s here. The nametag says Ariadne.

“You two are so obsessed with each other,” Ariadne says, “it makes the rest of us sick.”

Eames stares. “...Beg your pardon?”

“Anyway,” Ariadne continues breezily, hands poised over the cash register, “what’ll you be having today?”

Eames eats his sandwich, drinks his lemonade, and leaves before he realizes that Ariadne didn’t even answer his question.

Goddammit.

...

Arthur is out the rest of the week.

Eames is kicking himself for not getting any sort of contact info when he comes in Monday and there’s _still_ no sign of Arthur (what if he quit? what if he’s _dead?),_ until he rounds the counter to grab his food and Arthur’s sitting at a tiny two-person table in the corner of the room, poking at a bowl of soup.

The relief Eames feels is almost frightening.

Before he can think twice about it, he drops into the seat across from Arthur.

“Where did you go?” Eames blurts.

Arthur doesn’t even look surprised. “Business trip,” he deadpans. “But I’m touched by your concern, Eames.”

“Cafe Comienzo isn’t the same without you,” Eames says earnestly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Eames says. He takes a breath. “You’re very attractive.”

Arthur has a spoonful of his soup. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he says lightly.

“I like you,” Eames says, heart pounding, “a little bit.”

Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Uh-huh,” he says.

“Arthur.” Eames leans in. “There’s this great sushi place a couple blocks from here. Will you go there with me sometime? Saturday?”

Arthur smiles--real this time, small but genuine. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eames repeats, feeling his face split in an echoing smile.

Arthur lifts his spoon up to his mouth like he’s trying to hide behind it, but he’s smiling bigger now. “Okay.”

Eames memorizes that smile and tucks it in a spot close to his heart for a rainy day.

...

Two months later, Arthur laughs at something on Eames’s dresser.

“What,” Eames grumbles. He’s still lying in bed and frankly doesn’t understand why Arthur isn’t too.

Arthur turns around and waves a bright green card, worn at the edges and frayed from how many times it’s been folded up and jammed back into Eames’s wallet, at Eames. “I’m surprised you haven’t lost this.”

“I would never,” Eames says solemnly. “The first gift you ever gave me.”

Arthur laughs and climbs back into bed next to him, still holding the card.

“You never ended up getting that free cookie, huh,” he says.

Eames has to think about it for a moment. “No, guess not.” He pouts. “With all my loyal patronage, too.”

Arthur smiles, fiddling with the card.

Eames lowers his voice. “But...you know, it wasn’t about the free cookie.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur says.

“Frankly, the lemonades were kinda shit.”

Arthur laughs. “I know.”

“I was a little obsessed with you. I _am_ obsessed with you.”

Arthur blinks up at him, eyes dark and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

“Okay,” Eames says. “As long as you know that.”

Eames tips their mouths together, brief. Arthur breaks off the kiss to grin.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s have breakfast. I’ll make you a tuna melt.”

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://queuebird.tumblr.com/)


End file.
